The Left Lane by Keith T. Hodge

Author:Keith T. Hodge [Hodge, Keith T.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Urban, United States, African American, Literature & Fiction, Genre Fiction, Women's Fiction
ISBN: 9781301924868
Amazon: B00ALIMVPI
Publisher: Delphine Publications
Published: 2012-12-08T05:00:00+00:00

Tyrone couldn’t wait to close the doors to the shop and go anywhere other than where he was. The brake lights on the blue trailer that pulled JR’s two blue and white Jet Skis lit up at the edge of the shop’s parking lot as the two-toned Excursion waited at the stop sign. JR was finally leaving, dragging the ensemble back to Charles City County. It had been a long, tedious job, but it left Tyrone’s pockets stuffed. He was glad to see it leave even though he didn’t get a chance to see Telina’s ass up close and personal, bouncing on the seat of one.

His phone rang and unleashed Project Pat’s tune, “Gorilla Pimp.” He tried to answer it, but it was only alerting him that he had a text. He read the first line and got frustrated because he thought texting was stupid. He wondered why she just didn’t call him as he dialed her cell phone.

“Girl, you already know I don’t do the texting thing,” he explained. The screen on his phone had paint fingerprints all over it from using it at work with paint on his hands.

“Tyrone, what am I?” she asked.

“Huh?”

“What am I to you?”

“Telina, have you been drinking?”

“No,” she answered. “Well, yeah, a little bit, but not much. Just answer the question.”

“Lem’me see, what are you to me,” he mumbled after a pause. “To me, you are a bad bitch with some good booty, a good job, and a good sense of humor. And some good head too.”

“Tyrone, shut up! That’s not what I mean,” she said, frustrated.

“What do you mean?” he asked. “You sure you ain’t drunk?”

“No, I’m not drunk, stupid. I need you to define our relationship.”

“Oh.”

“Oh, what?”

“Oh damn, I wasn’t expecting that one. Let me ask you a question first. Do you have a toothbrush in my bathroom?”

“No, I use yours,” she answered.

“What?”

“I shave my coochie with your edge-up clippers, too.”

“What?” Tyrone repeated taken aback.

“I’m kidding,” she lied.

“Girl, you stoppin’ me from makin’ money,” he said, looking for an excuse to get off the phone. “Come holla at me later and we can rap about it then. Bet?”

“Bet what?”

“Never mind,” he said, ending the call. He was hoping that she would open the door for that conversation before he did. The fact that she brought it up meant that she wanted to be his. Either that, or she wanted to see another man besides him. He thought that was doubtful because he knew he’d been pushing pipe to her properly every time they hooked up. He knew he had her sprung the night he caught her trying to hide her tears after they had sex. When he asked her why she was crying, she said that she had sweat in her eyes. Tyrone knew what time it was. He leaned down and kissed both of her eyes, knowing that her so-called sweat was just a sign. A man knows when he puts it down correctly without being told. An experienced man can’t hear a woman’s words because her body speaks louder.

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